A Minor Detour
by DrizztsAngel
Summary: Our four favorite dysfunctional pretty boys settle at an inn for the night, but tragedy strikes and Sanzo's out of cigarettes!  On his quest for smokes, he finds something he wasn't anticipating.  Debauchery ensues!  Sanzo x OC x OC.  NOT YAOI. ONE-SHOT.


**I do not own Saiyuki nor any of its characters. I do own Amaya and Mizuki and the plot. It may be a little OOC; it might even have a touch of Mary-Sue-ness *which I'm not fond of, myself * but this little plot-bunny has been hopping around in my head for months and now that it's out, I hope you enjoy it at least a little bit!**

His face was filled with customary discontent as he stared into the dingy mirror. _I need a haircut..._ he thought dimly, the contours of his narrow face mocking him in the glassy surface. He ran his fingers through the length of blond bangs and sighed in contempt. Narrowing his eyes at the reflection before him, he snatched up the hair elastic he'd pilfered from Gojyo and hastily tied his hair back from his nape. It would have to do, he decided, and turning from the vanity in the room he called _his_ for the night, he pocketed his two favorite weapons and made for the door.

It was true that he was a monk, as it was true that Gojyo was half-demon, Goku a bottomless pit and Hakkai the epitome of gentleness. But it didn't mean that he adhered to the views of societal opinion; just as Gojyo was not a mindless killer, Goku could—in fact—go for substantial periods of time without any sustenance and Hakkai was the last person anyone ever wanted to piss off. As it was, Genjo Sanzo was a priest, yes, first and foremost. But he was a priest with vices—smoking tops among them—and rarely if never witnessed by his companions, he did, in fact, have a mild weakness for the gentler sex.

It was actually his lack of smokes that sent him out into the chill night air in search of a cigarette vendor. Walking along nearly deserted dusty streets in wan gas-lamp light, he pulled his crushed pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket and debated smoking the lone remaining one. Sighing, he tucked it between his lips and crushed the empty pack in his fist, tossing it over his shoulder in the darkness; eyes searching for some lit window of an open shop where he could purchase more. He neglected to light it on the off chance his luck had taken a down-turn. In essence, though, the last few days had been a little better than the many preceding ones. Goku had seemed to calm a bit, Gojyo was more withdrawn than he'd ever been and Hakkai was...well, Hakkai was Hakkai and nothing ever seemed to faze him.

_Goku's belly is full and that sates him, _Sanzo pondered, turning a corner and honing in on a lit shop window in the distance. _Gojyo hasn't had a good lay in so long, he's falling comatose... _Another sigh escaped his lips, whistling slightly around the cigarette. _For that matter, so am I. I haven't seen a woman that remotely interested me in... _he pushed through the glass paned door of the shop and a bell sounded over his head. "...years," he finished out-loud, violet eyes roving the counter at the back of the establishment.

A lilting voice called out from behind a beaded curtain to his left. "We'll be right with you!"

_Sounds cute..._ He shook his head at his thought. _Comatose, my ass. I'm just delusional._

There was a shuffling, the sound of something heavy and filled with leafed paper hitting the floor and a distinctive "Dammit!" from behind the wooden beads, then the back of a shapely figure emerged with the rolled-end of a large carpet in her arms followed closely by the front of another shapely figure clinging to the opposite end of said carpet. The one with her back turned angled her head over her shoulder and cocked a crooked grin in his direction. "Sorry. What do you need?"

"Marlboro Reds. Soft pack. Short." Sanzo felt a dryness in the back of his throat suddenly. A parched sensation he had not felt in...years. She wasn't even looking at him anymore. Her indifference intrigued him as much as her bare midriff and her short black hair. The other one was just as magnificent, baring an ample amount of cleavage as she leaned down behind the counter to set down her end of the burden. He blinked at them blankly as they turned in unison and offered a polite bow. _They have _got_ to be sisters... _They were just too similar to not be related. One was taller, more athletically built. The shorter one was narrow at the waist and larger in the top, her hair just as black and braided haphazardly over her right shoulder. High cheekbones, huge blue eyes, and button noses dominated both their features. The slightly taller one had fuller lips, a wider mouth... the shorter one a narrow mouth with a sharp "v" on the upper lip. Sanzo swallowed thickly. _Figures. I finally find a woman that grabs my attention and she has a sister that's just as appealing._

The taller one turned to the shorter one and grinned secretively. _Am I being paranoid, now?_

"Get another carton of Reds from the back, Dear," she said softly and the other nodded, retreating to the storeroom behind the beaded curtain. "How many?" she asked Sanzo now, leaning against the counter and displaying the not-so-unwelcomed sight of small pert breasts under loose, low-cut fabric.

He swallowed again. "Carton." He was having a distinctly difficult time tearing his gaze away from her as they waited on the shorter girl to return with his purchase. She still had that secretive grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. _She's got to know that her tits are just hanging out there in the open... _he thought to himself, then he realized something that hadn't struck him in a long time: he was being hit on. And it was working. The secretive little grin on her face was exactly that: _Hey. You like what you see? Want more?_

The sister returned with a carton of Reds and passed them over to the bold one who straightened up and smacked the carton down on the counter between them. Sanzo glanced between the two a couple of times, wondering if this situation could possibly lead anywhere other than outright debauchery and a damn good time. Hopefully, with little-to-no consequences the morning after. The shorter one leaned over the counter this time while the taller one plopped her hands on her hips and stared at him expectantly. "Sorry. How much?" He shook his head wondering where his smooth cool had escaped him.

They simultaneously looked him up and down with a gleam in their baby-blues that exhilarated and terrified him at the same time. "Forget money. Get us out of here for a while and we'll call it even."

Violet eyes darted nervously between the two of them again. Of course, his face wouldn't give away his elated panic; his mouth was still set in a grim line, his hands shoved into jean pockets—_Shit! I'm not in monk's robes. ...I guess I picked the right day to do laundry. Bet I wouldn't have been lookin' at tits for the last five minutes if I had been wearing vestments... _"Whatchya got in mind, Ladies?"

That conspiratorial grin exchanged again; the shorter one sauntered from behind the counter and he realized that she wore a traditional belted yukata—one that seemed to belong on a twelve year old boy, what with the way it was fitting her. Sanzo did not know it was possible for someone under five and a half feet to possess legs as long this girl. That is, until the taller one easily hopped the counter and he received flashes of supple tan legs beneath the gauzy fabric of her long skirt. She settled on her feet like a cat, slinking over to him like some kind of terribly beautiful predator.

She smiled broadly and quickly flicked her nail at the base of his throat. "Cute. Your Adam's apple bobs when you swallow like that. Nervous 'bout something? We won't_ eat_ you. Unless you're into that sort of thing, of course..." The shorter one giggled and reached out, smoothing her fingers down the sleeve of his left arm.

The light green fabric of her yukata was worn considerably thin and Sanzo could see contours of her person through it that made his dry throat itch. "We don't like the taverns and bars around here. I think we have the same thing in mind as you. And before you ask, no, we're not sisters. But we do _everything_ together..."

* * *

Goku was sitting perpendicular to both Hakkai and Gojyo in the dining room of the small inn where the four of them were renting their rooms. There was an idle conversation humming between them, more mild than any Hakkai could remember having where Goku was involved, and they waited somewhat patiently for the innkeeper's wife to bring them their meals—the cost of which would probably feed the innkeeper's family for the next month.

When Goku stopped mid-sentence ten minutes later with a meat-bun poised centimeters from his wide open pie-trap, Hakkai knew something amazingly bad must have just happened. For Goku to pause was one thing—for him to be unable to proceed with the stuffing of his face was tragic. Gold eyes grew to the size of saucers and the meat-bun actually fell from his fingers to plop on the pile of food before him. His hypnotized gaze between Hakkai's and Gojyo's heads prompted the two older men to exchange worried glances before gingerly swinging their eyes in the direction of Goku's open-mouthed stare. All they saw was the retreating forms of a tall blond man wearing impossibly tight jeans and a white shirt, flanked on either side by two dark haired women, hips swaying suggestively with their gait, the man's arms draped loosely over each woman's narrow waist.

Hakkai turned back to Goku who had actually pushed his plates of food away from him as if to declare he had no appetite. "What's wrong, Goku? It's just..." Hakkai's words failed him when he tried to say "a man with two floozies" _nicely_.

Gojyo piped up. "Just some blond bimbo with two brunette bimbos...you know. Nature at work and all. ...You _do_ know about these things, right?" he asked teasingly before the blond ponytail he'd just seen rang a familiar bell. "Oh. My. God."

"What is it?" Hakkai asked, his concerned gaze not leaving Goku's crestfallen expression. Goku simply shook his head and bowed his chin to his chest, crossing his arms over his midriff as he shuddered slightly. "You recognized them?"

"One of them. Sanzo borrowed an elastic from me this morning for his hair. He said he needed a haircut but that it would do for now."

"And?" Hakkai pressed, tension seeping into the pit of his stomach.

"And he was having the innkeeper's wife launder his monk's robes today, so all he had was jeans and that white button-down."

Hakkai shook his head in disbelief. "You are not telling me that..._that_ was Sanzo. _Our_ Sanzo?"

The only answer he received was the barest of nods from the monkey.

It took Gojyo ten minutes of solid pleading the get the monkey to start eating again, hoping that while Goku was consuming everything around him, he and Hakkai could sneak away to do what any self-respecting friend _would_ do... Listen at Sanzo's door. Unfortunately, as the sneaking began, Goku declared he wanted to go where _they_ were going and Gojyo had to promise him he could have both his and Hakkai's meals as payment if he would just stay downstairs while they "checked something out".

* * *

If any word could describe the way Sanzo's head felt it was "spinning". Scant seconds had passed between the time he'd locked the door behind him and shucked his boots and the moment he realized his shirt was being peeled away from his body. The tall one—he'd learned her name was Amaya—was sliding nails over the hard contours of his abdomen and the shorter one—Mizuki—was gingerly kneeling before him, delicate fingers poised over the button of his fly. His breath hitched in his throat when the shirtsleeves slid down the taut muscles of his shoulders and arms; he closed his eyes against the sensation of Amaya's lips on the skin of his collarbone. For just a moment he wondered how he'd let himself get into this predicament, if it could be called that, then just as quickly the idea left him. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, reaching to cup the back of Amaya's head and force her lips to meet his.

She groaned under the assault, her tongue battling against his as she fought for dominance. Her victory came swiftly as Mizuki slipped her slender fingers into the fly of his jeans and ran a nail teasingly down the length of his hardening shaft. Sanzo's eyes popped open, momentarily shocked, and Amaya took advantage of his distraction. Pulling away, she placed her hand briefly on the top of Mizuki's head and the petite girl rose from her position and reached for the belt of her yukata. Sanzo couldn't really do anything other than lean against the wall where he'd been pinned previously and watch whatever show may unfold in front of him. The belt fell to the floor and he watched its descent before turning his attention back to the pair slowly backing their way to his bed in the corner of the dimly-lit room.

Mizuki slowly peeled one layer of the yukata away, then the other, unsurprisingly leaving her nothing more than a scrap of white lace that he supposed someone, somewhere, _might _call "panties". Her large breasts were perfectly rounded and wonderfully _perky_, each one tipped with pale pink and he struggled to keep from reaching out and weighing them in his palms. She was much lighter-skinned than her companion Amaya, who stood slightly back from her, bottom lip pulled in between her teeth as she glanced back and forth between Mizuki and Sanzo, curious of his reaction. He took a tentative step toward them, his jeans growing uncomfortably tighter by the second. The yukata fell to the floor in a pool of pale green and Mizuki sank down to sit on the edge of the bed. Sanzo felt hands on him again and he was startled to find that Amaya had somehow gotten behind him without him noticing. Not that he was on high-alert, by any means; her hands slid softly up his back, relaxing his tension, then trailed down to the waistband of his jeans. She gripped the rigid fabric in both hands and tugged them to his ankles and he carefully stepped out of them. There was a glimpse of gauzy fabric falling next to the denim on the floor then every thought process Sanzo held dear came to a dead halt when Amaya pressed her breasts against his back.

Mizuki leaned back on her elbows, her hands drifting up to languidly run over her breasts, fingertips plucking at hardening nipples while Amaya molded herself to Sanzo's back, her own hands slipping dangerously low, brushing teasingly at the golden trail of hair leading toward his painful erection. Her lips pressed into the curve of his back, nipping at his shoulder and raising gooseflesh on his skin. If watching the petite brunette in front of him begin to pleasure herself was making it somewhat difficult to for him to breathe, feeling Amaya's slender fingers gently grip his shaft actually made him groan aloud. He had to close his eyes against the onslaught momentarily, focusing on the sensation of slightly calloused fingertips massaging his length. Swallowing against the urge to moan again, he opened his eyes to see Mizuki teasing herself beneath the now-wet lace between her legs.

_Tonight will be a good night..._

* * *

Hakkai and Gojyo crept up the staircase to the conjoined rooms where the four of them were staying. Knowing that each of the rooms were mirror images of the one to which it was joined they had two advantages: one being that the bed in Sanzo's room would be just next to the door that led into Hakkai's, and two: eavesdropping from Hakkai's room kept them out of the main hallway that led to every other room on that floor. They wouldn't have to worry about another patron stumbling over them in the darkness, or that Sanzo would storm out into the hall to beat them to death with that damn paper fan of his.

Softly shutting the door behind him, Gojyo tiptoed over to the far corner where Hakkai was kneeling down; exchanging curious glances, each pressed their ears to the door. They were greeted with the sounds of heated moaning, Sanzo's gravelly voice rising above it every so often, muttering some curse or another. Hakkai cupped his hand over his mouth, hiding the shocked grin he wore behind it. Gojyo's face was a blank mask, part of him happy that maybe this would be the thing that kept Sanzo off their backs for a while; partially so consumed in shock that he wasn't sure he could _form_ an expression at that moment. A high-pitched giggle followed another swear from Sanzo and then the deeper voice of the other woman declared, "Play fair, Mizuki. I want a turn, too, ya know..."

Gojyo bit back a chuckle at the strangled laugh that barely escaped Hakkai's lips. "You have _got_ to be kidding me..." Hakkai whispered. "Both of them? _Really?_"

"Hey, it's not unheard of, you know," Gojyo retorted. "I've had-"

"I don't want to know, Gojyo."

"Fine."

"I was beginning to think celibacy was the only Buddhist tenant that he adhered to..."

Gojyo shrugged his reply and gingerly pressed his ear to the door again. Hakkai did the same. The next phrase that was uttered on the other side of the door in that high-pitched voice made both of them clap their hands over their mouths at the same time and simultaneously turn similar shades of purple.

"It's soooo big. Will it fit?"

* * *

Sanzo was pretty certain he could die happy at this point. He probably wouldn't make it to Nirvana, anyhow, he figured, so he might as well go in the throes of passion. Amaya was riding him there, it seemed, and Mizuki was perched near his shoulder, her tongue doing things in his ear he didn't think would feel as good as it did right then.

"You're some kind of beast, aren't you?" Amaya panted, leaning forward and dragging her tongue up the flesh of his neck. "It's been two hours...it's amazing..."

Sanzo grinned despite himself. "Not a beast, Beautiful. Just long over-due..." He growled when she sank her teeth into his lower lip. He was done with this dominant shit. It was fun, sure. But he was never gonna get off like this.

His hands gripped her sweat-slick legs and he flipped her on her back before she knew what had happened. A startled little gasp escaped her full lips and an indignant look darkened her sky-blue eyes for a split second before he started pounding into her full force. Amaya whimpered beneath him and her eyes rolled back in their sockets, her fingers coming up to grasp his biceps with acquiescence. Mizuki sat back on her heels, a grumpy little frown forming on her pretty face. "Don't worry, Sweetheart. You're next," Sanzo growled in her direction, before throwing Amaya's leg over his shoulder and picking up the pace.

* * *

Hakkai and Gojyo reluctantly made their way back down to the dining room where Goku was picking at his plate.

"You okay, Monkey?" Gojyo asked, pulling out his chair and plopping down across from him.

"I tried eating. I _did_. But I could only eat so much... It's like I don't have an appetite."

"That's amazing in and of itself. You still seemed to down two plates of food." Hakkai reached across the table and pulled the tray of meat-buns toward himself and Gojyo.

"You'd think we were condemning the Great Sanzo to death, what with the distress of our apish comrade, here. Just what do you _think_ is going on up there in your precious priest's room, Monkey?" Gojyo teased, popping a piece of meat-bun into his mouth.

"I'm not stupid, Water-Sprite. I know they're... I just don't want this to change him."

"Trust me on one thing, Goku," Hakkai offered, reaching for his beer. "If anything changes, it will be for the better."

* * *

Sanzo's stomach rumbled in the darkness. _Shit, I hope that doesn't wake them up..._ he thought, peering down at the two women curled into his sides, both so soundly fucked they couldn't get up and get dressed. He smiled to himself, letting his head sink deeper into his pillow and his eyes lull closed. He was having trouble staying awake, himself. He was also relatively certain he would be sore in a few hours in muscles he hadn't used in years. He focused on the sensation of lengthy legs curling around his own and supple breasts pressed against either side of his body. Amaya's head was nestled close to the curve of his neck, her breath tickling his skin; Mizuki's head was on his left shoulder, purring lightly as she slept. _I hope to all that's holy some freak doesn't burst in here trying to kill somebody and fuck this up for me, or I swear..._ His thought was cut short by Mizuki's little groan as she shifted in her sleep and rolled away from him, curling up with her back to his side and her naked ass lightly brushing his hip. Amaya moaned a few seconds later and shifted as well, but closer to him, her lithe body slipping against his own, one svelte, tan leg sliding over his and brushing against his groin as she got comfortable. Sanzo bit back a groan of his own and decided that if he didn't get some sleep now, he would be completely useless come sun-up.

Sometime in the pre-dawn hours, when the entire inn was asleep and the darkness filtering in through his window wasn't quite as dark as the room itself, Sanzo woke to the slightest sound of shuffling in the room. Instantly on alert, he nearly shot out of bed before remembering the events of the previous night. Relaxing somewhat, he realized he was alone under the sheet. Scanning the room he saw the glint of metal in the hint of moonlight coming through the window. The edge of that metal bit into the flesh of his neck as he tried once again to move.

"You're not going anywhere, Lover," the high-pitched voice just beyond the darkness informed him. He saw the outline of a light green yukata and Mizuki stepped closer into his line of vision. "I've been chasing your ass all over this continent and I'm not gonna let you live just 'cause you're the best lay I've ever had."

Sanzo sighed the broken sigh of a man with entirely too many sorrows. "You have _got_ to be shitting me."

"'Fraid not, Sweetie. While you were snoring, I took the liberty of shooting you up with some paralytic. It's just an herbal, though you won't be alive long enough for it to worry your pretty blond head. You see, you killed my brother five years ago and I intend to have my revenge."

_Gee, what a plot twist..._ Sanzo muttered inwardly, wondering which poor sop it was that got in his way five years ago. "Wait, you're a demon?" He cranked his eyes hard to his left, trying to pick out some defining feature that had alluded him the night before. _She looks entirely human...she didn't _feel_ like a demon..._

"Only half." Mizuki flipped the thick braid over her shoulder and leaned closer, revealing the singular earring in her right ear.

_That must be what binds her aura._

The throwing knife she had pressed against his neck dug a little deeper. _She must have had those sewn into her yukata..._

"So, what's your story? You're gonna kill me anyway. Might as well make me miserable before you do it."

"You might be great between the sheets, Genjo Sanzo, but you are a shrewd mother fucker," a deeper voice piped in. Amaya emerged from the darkness, standing slightly behind her partner. Her full mouth slid into a pleased grin. "I met Mizuki while she was searching for you. Seemed like fun, trotting all over the world searching for a murderer. So I came along for the ride."

The metal blade pinched deeper into his neck; he could feel a warm trickle of blood down his flesh, but couldn't lift his hand to wipe it away. _Well, I _did_ say I could die happy, but this is ri-goddamn-diculous._

"Anyway, you wanna know what was in the rug we were moving at the cigarette shop?" Mizuki chimed in, sounding a little pissed that Amaya had stolen some of her thunder.

"Uh...lemmee guess. The shop-keeper?" Sanzo dead-panned, beginning to wish she'd hurry up and plunge that little knife into his jugular. ...Or carotid. ...Or whatever artery was on the left side of his neck.

"Yep!" she chirped, pleased with herself and that her years of searching had finally come to an end. "Well, guess that's all. Amaya, you got anything you wanna add before I kill him?"

"Just that it's been a lot of fun, fucking you senseless and following you all over the country. But sadly, all good things must come to an end." Amaya's gaze leveled on Mizuki's profile. "Isn't that right, Mizuki, darling?"

Mizuki looked at Amaya blankly for a half a heartbeat then her face dissolved into shock and pain, the throwing knife she'd held to Sanzo's neck clattering lightly to the floor. Even the seasoned monk had to bite back a cry of startled surprise when Amaya's bare hand protruded from the front of Mizuki's now blood stained yukata. Amaya yanked her hand back through the smaller girl, catching her gracefully before she fell to the floor, and settled her against the planks in a bleeding heap. Violet eyes stared at her with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude.

"She was from a rival clan. Her family has been slaughtering mine for generations. I followed her under the guise that I sought revenge on you, as well. She was too damn stupid to realize I was the daughter of her brother's rival. I knew you were traveling with a demon-slaying party...I kinda wondered if you'd get to her before I did."

"So this whole thing was one big fucking experiment."

"Not exactly." Amaya settled on the edge of his bed and settled her hand in the center of his naked chest. "I saw you once, years ago when I was a small child. You passed through my village with your master and I vowed I would see these purple eyes again." She smiled wryly and leaned down, touching her forehead to his. "As I got older, the image of your eyes burning with different emotions took over my thoughts and as I set out for Mizuki's head, and realized she was after _yours_, I thought, 'How fun would _that_ be?'"

"You are twisted." Despite himself, a similarly wry grin crept its way onto Sanzo's face. "Did you have fun, Beautiful?"

"Don't be surprised if I pop up somewhere down the road."

"I'll keep that in mind. Uh, when is this paralytic gonna wear off?"

"If it's similar to my clan's, about an hour." Amaya pressed her open mouth against his forcefully, snaking her tongue into the wet heat of his mouth and burning his taste into her memory. Pulling away after several moments, leaving Sanzo panting slightly, she reached down and pulled the lifeless body of Mizuki up and tossed her over her shoulder. With a crooked grin tossed at him over her shoulder, Amaya let herself out of his room and he couldn't help wondering when and where he'd run into her again.

Later that morning, dressed in his customary white robes, the Monk, the Water-Sprite, the Gentleman and the Monkey piled into Hakuryu and headed due west. Gojyo leaned forward an hour into their ride and tapped Sanzo lightly on the shoulder.

"What?" he griped, but distinctly less grumpy than usual.

Gojyo grinned. "How was your night, monk? Anything out of the norm? You never came down to eat with the rest of us."

Sanzo tapped his paper fan to his temple, debating on telling the truth in front of the monkey. He decided against it. "You don't wanna know," he muttered, chuckling to himself.


End file.
